


tangible

by timbernya



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, I don't want me to be doing dis either !, No Spoilers, did someone ask for more Miu word vomit ? no ?, enjoy your word vomit, too bad it's here anyway, tw for pedophilia and abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timbernya/pseuds/timbernya
Summary: i've been broken by things that never even touched me





	tangible

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i keep writing miu angst someday ill write something that isn't 2 am word vomiting and actually publish smth of merit on dis account but today is not tht day   
> dis isn't even vaguely well written so uh read at ur own risk I guess

It isn't even real. 

That's what Miu tells herself every time it comes back to bite her and rip at her heart and make her feel like the shittiest person in the world. It isn't real. It isn't real. Calm down calm down it'll be okay when you accept it isn't real. She keeps thinking that, mouthing the words in hopes that yes yes yes she'll suddenly stop feeling shitty like this is some children's movie where everything can be solved with willpower (all those movies she watched before she started wanting to die why can't she just be 10 again?). 

She lays down in her bed and squeezes her eyes shut. Tears prick at her eyelids but they don't fall, they haven't fallen in a long time, she knows she should really talk to her therapist about it but it's probably just normal. She's normal. There's nothing wrong. She's exaggerating. Overreacting. Mental hypochondria. A victim complex. Anything to tell herself that it isn't real as if that makes it any better (it just makes her feel worse). She feels false hands ghost over her and she asks herself why why why why do you feel those things? There was never a hand on her as much as she had been willed to imagine it imagination wasn't reality. It wasn't real. She was never touched so what reason does she have to whine and cry? They're text messages. Fucking text messages. There's no reason to be upset. 

16 16 16 Miu Iruma is 16 years old. But she doesn't feel 16, she doesn't even feel 15 or even 14. She feels like a lost little 13 year old still and it hurts so much. She wants to grow up and yet she fears it so much she doesn't want to become that monster. That monster who split her in two like a 'before' and 'after' of some workout routine. It was like a knife had just been taken through her life to divide it into two neat little portions because she sure as hell didn't feel like the 12 year old who couldn't ever imagine this sort of pain was actually her. She grew up but did she really? She was so old but so young at the same time everyone said 'you're mature for your age' not knowing why that was. She was 13 but she was also 16 but why did that matter when she barely knew her own identity? 

One more year and she would be 17 and Miu dreaded it so goddamn much. 17. 17. 17. That was how old she had been. Miu had sworn it to herself that she would never do those things no matter how old she got but could she keep that promise? She probably told herself the same thing she went through so much worse than Miu after all and she still went and left Miu hollow and fractured. She has morals and she thinks that's enough to keep her from ever becoming that monster but oh god what if it isn't? She doesn't want to keep that hellish cycle going but she's not sure of anything anymore. 

It isn't fucking real. She says it again but it doesn't change anything. She can't convince herself because a part of her mind won't let her despite how much she blames herself. Maybe it's the diagnosis, maybe it's her friends who support her (though she has no idea why), maybe it's the book on her nightstand that in bold letters proclaims its purpose of helping recovery. She wouldn't have this if she didn't need it. It's sickening and she keeps trying to convince her mind that she's just a delusional idiot but it's real it's real it's real but is it really? 

She hates it all she hates it deep in her soul she hates how it's become an intricate inherent part of her running through her veins. She wonders how she could have been so fucking stupid but there's no use changing the past there's nothing that can change the 6 solid months of grooming and pain there's nothing that can change that month three years ago when her idiotic just-barely-13-year-old self confessed to that horrid bitch over their text messages and got a yes in response. 17 wasn't that bad, right? They were both still minors. It didn't matter that it was 4 years. 

(it mattered it mattered it mattered she was just a child barely a teenager and she fell into that disgusting trap) 

Miu stares up at her ceiling and wonders how long she's been thinking about this since when was it 2 AM? She had been meaning to go to bed at midnight. The lamp hurts her eyes but she doesn't have it in her to reach over and turn it off it's like all the energy is drained from her body. She feels so vulnerable and empty and hollow like she's the most useless thing in the universe. 

Her younger self probably feels the same way.


End file.
